Post-AWE. Maybe he's only called crazy because he's lost the ability to tell dreams from reality. But one last conversation with Will... he regrets not knowing if it's a dream.

A/N: "Bad luck to wake a man who is sleeping" slightly fiddled with quote from CotBP

Waking Dreams

Everyone said Jack Sparrow was crazy, but maybe he was only called crazy because he lost the ability to tell dreams from reality a long time ago. He's always found that in dreams, there usually is infinite measures of rum, plenty of fine woman, and his beloved Pearl never gets taken by the other guy.

So maybe he's actually living the dream, and the lack of rum, woman, and his fine Pearl is just a nightmare and he never actually died twice, (At least, he thinks it was twice. He's lost count by now) or was resurrected by the woman who killed him.

Huh.

Thinking about things like that makes his head hurt, so Captain Jack Sparrow returned his attention to what was probably a dream.

Or was just another scene in his nightmare.

Muttering to himself, struggled to his feet, blinking blearily up at the man standing over him.

"Someone once told me that it was bad luck to wake a man who is sleeping," he mumbled, squinting at the figure. The man who woke him was standing in such a way that the sun bled straight into Jack's eyes, so the pirate edges slightly to the side, trying to recognize the features before him.

"Someone once told me how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking," the once-familiar voice replied to him cheerfully. Jack's eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his mouth before shutting it abruptly.

"Obviously that won't be necessary seeing hows you are not to be walking on land any time soon, and here we are on land. So therefore, I must be dreaming and you must not be here," Jack mumbled before allowing himself to flop back down onto the wood.

"Jack, you're on The Dutchman," William Turner- who else would be so confusingly cheerful after running into a pirate captain- grinned down at Jack. "If you'll hear me out, there's some rum into it for you."

Rum. That word caused more pause then the Dutchman's name. He's been dead before, after all.

Jack forced a smile and gave a small bow, flinging his arms wide around him. "Well if there's rum involved, I'd be a landlubber to decline."

The Pearl's rightful captain eyed Will as he walked away, a frown marring his face. He couldn't quite decide if this was a dream or not- there was ample rum, he was talking to a man without a heart, he was on a ship where everyone was dead... but there was no women and no Pearl.

Jack bounced after Will, occasionally side-tracking to admire certain aspects of the Flying Dutchman. It was no Pearl, that was a sure thing, but it was still a fine craft. He didn't blame Davy Jones for not having a ship as lovely as the Pearl, but it made a good fishing vessel.

When the other captain motioned towards a table with two chairs, Jack flopped down readily enough. Casually, he spun his hat around over his finger, and gave Will another grin.

"So you say you have a prop-o-sit-ion?" Jack drawled out the word cheerfully enough. "I've given my soul away once lad, I'm afraid I don't have another to bargain."

The 'lad' looked startled for a moment, but he shook his head as he sat across from Jack. "I don't want your soul Jack. I want your word that you'll look in on Elizabeth occasionally over the next few years, until I'm allowed back on land."

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" Jack asked, smiling cheerfully. His silent question was obvious- what's in it for me?

"I can tell you where the Pearl is."

Jack's eyes roved over Will for a few seconds, but they hardened over. "I know where the Pearl is. Barbossa took her."

"Barbossa sank her."

Jack's body went still, like a hunting terrier. A dangerous look flashed in his eyes, and unconsciously his hand dropped to his pistol. After a few seconds, he seemed to relax. The information was shoved away, the anger locked in the crevasses of his mind where it would not be touched until he faced Barbossa once again.

"I know how you can get her back," Will murmured. "And I'll tell you once I have your word."

"Tricksy laddie," Jack murmured, his hat rolling over in his hands as he thought. "I suppose I can look in on the fine Lady Elizabeth every now and then, if only to tempt her a bit."

Will's eyes rolled, but the promise seemed enough for him. He stood, and walked away from the table, leaving Jack to scurry behind him.

"I suggest you start in England. I hear there's a Captain Jack Sparrow looking for a crew there. Perhaps he'll take you on."

Alright, so maybe this was a dream.

Jack stared at the little boat with a ripped out map in it. His gaze transferred to Will for a moment, then it turned to the rum bottle.

"I can keep the rum?"

It seemed so, because Will handed the bottle over to him silently. Jack climbed into the boat, but found himself watching the Dutchman's captain curiously.

"Lad, you'll take care of yourself?"

Will's laugh reached him as Jack took a long swig of rum.

"Worry about yourself, Jack."

Jack nodded, and mumbled something to himself. He felt his eyes closing once again, and fell back into sleep.

A few hours later, he awoke again, rum bottle clutched in hand. Cautiously, he shook it, then cursed.

"Why is the rum always gone?"

Lack of rum or no, it appeared he was on his way to England.

The product of my boredom. Yes, out of character. I was thinking of Inception- at the end, do you know if it's all a dream or not? Not really. I wanted to leave Jack with the feeling, but this didn't turn out quite as well as I hoped. Perhaps one day I'll get back to it and scribble over it a bit.

Or perhaps not.

Reviews loved, and appreciated. Critiques as well.